


Geralt and The Big Bad Sting

by thebitchywitcher



Series: Geraskier and The Near Death Experiences [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: BAMF Jaskier ofc, M/M, Roach is simply a bystander, We stan two idiots, Yennerfer (mentioned), hurt geralt, i don't ever have normal tags, like actual idiots, oh also theres a skin bound book so uhh, rip that scorpion tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23029753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebitchywitcher/pseuds/thebitchywitcher
Summary: Geralt has pimple  (ITS A SCORPION STING JASKIER) and Jaskier has to save the day, duh.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier and The Near Death Experiences [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653142
Comments: 2
Kudos: 96





	Geralt and The Big Bad Sting

**Author's Note:**

> I edited like a itty bit. Also this is shorter im sorry. Roach is still my fav and I will always love her

"Geralt! Which line do you prefer; 'all the lovely rose stay blue' or-"

"Not the time Jaskier!" The Witcher grimaces, trying to pry a clawed grip from his wrist. Behind him, the bard huffs in annoyance and continues scribbling in his notebook. Geralt lets out a snarl, letting his weight drop so abruptly the creature lets go with a shriek. The man rolls away, sword gripped tight to his chest until he jumps up to his feet. The 8 foot tall scorpion like creature hisses, stinger snapping foreward to the Witcher.

He lunges at the monster, ducking past its stinger and grimacing at the shriek it lets out when his sword slices through its eye like butter. It only staggers around for a moment, bug like body falling to the earth with a wail. Geralt removes his sword with a growl, already not wanting to clean the green goo off of it.

"That's just wrong." His companion says from behind him, peeking past him at the thing as if scared it still lives. The Witcher rolls his eyes, shoving the sword at the man just to watch him shriek as he reflexively catches it. "nOT FUNNY YOU DUMB BRUTE!" He shouts, making a gagging noise as Geralt takes the weapon back. The smaller man swipes at his clothes, still complaining.

"Hmm." Geralt amends, not apologizing and attempting to ignore the grin that threatens his stoic expression. The bard grumbles, but follows his companion as the Witcher winds through the trees back to Roach.

"Geralt about last week, with the fever." The younger man starts, rubbing the back of his neck partially embarrassed. His friend humms, but says nothing in response. "I never thanked you, for helping me when I was scared...in the uh- bath?" He ends what was supposed to be a statement as a questions, heat rising quickly to his face. The Witcher nods once, a movement most would dismiss. But Jaskier is well versed in the language of this Witcher, and he knows it's the man accepting his thanks.

They continue to walk in silence, if you can call any moment with Jaskier silent. The bard complains, covering the sounds of the forest's nosies and continuous bird chirps. After a moment the bard even attempts to replicate the tunes, but fails with a smile. This is where Jaskier feels most at home. He glances at his partner, who walks slightly ahead of him. At one time he thought the man did so to ignore him, but even though Geralt never explained it Jaskier sees it as an attempt to keep the bard safe. His eyes land on the back of the Witcher's neck, or the irritated red bump he sees there.

"Geralt are you injured?" The man abruptly asks, stopping in his tracks with his eyes trained on the neck of his friend. Geralt turns, eyebrows raised like he doesnt know what Jaskier means. The bard doesn't remember seeing the man get cut, but something about the small incision doesn't sit well. "Your neck," he points, stomach churning like he knows what comes next. 

Geralts eyes go wide, bringing a hand up to gently prod at the cut. "Shit," he curses, looking away as if thinking to himself. He had been feeling slightly hot and tired, but had thought it was simply aftermath of the fight. He thinks back on what he had read about the creature, what he could translate in the old book. "We need to get back to Roach, she has that damned book." The damn book Yennefer had given him, and then told him she didn't understand latin. A bunch of bullshit that was, a witch that doesn't read latin- like a Witcher that can't handle a sword.

"Book?" Jaskier asks, but follows Geralt's quick pace nonetheless. He twists his hands together to distract himself from his own panic. "When did we have a book?" His question is mostly directed to himself as he walks. Ahead of him, Geralt suddenly curses and stumbles to the right. His companion hurries to his side. "Geralt, geralt what is this?" He asks, touching the other mans shoulder with a gentle hand.

"Poison." The Witcher grumbles, wincing at the churning of his gut. His knees nearly buckle beneath him, dizziness taking over. A warm hand grips at his wrist, bringing his arm over the shoulder of the smaller man. Jaskier winces at the weight but still grips onto the back of Geralt's shirt. "Book, Roach." The Witcher rasps, leaning heavily against his friend.

"Okay, okay." They make slow work of their walk back to the horse, Geralt mostly leading with a twist of his upper body. Jaskier is out of breath with a single step, muscles protesting at the weight of the Witcher. Eventually they make it back to the clearing, Jaskier grinning at Roach in relief as he drags the bigger man over to her. "I am so glad to see you." The bard gushes, dropping Geralt on the ground to wrestle through the mans satchel. The Witcher complains, pinching Jaskier calf in retaliation at the drop even as he lays in the dirt.

"It's leather." The man says from the floor, coughing weakly. Jaskier glances at him, taking in his already worsening condition. With renewed vigor he continues his search, laughing when he pulls it from the bag.

"Found it!" He grins, and then immediately grimaces and almost drops the thing. "IS THIS HUMAN SKIN?!" He nearly shrieks, looking down at the Witcher who shrugs and coughs. "Gross." He gags, dropping down to his knees beside his partner's head.

"I- I translated what I could on that paper." He says, voice even deeper and scratchier than usual. The bard nods and opens the leather bound -skin bound?!- book. He immediatly finds the page he needs by the piece of parchment sticking out from between the pages. He disregards the words in the book, unfolding the paper and reading Geralt's messy scrawl. His panic rises when he realizes that what they need hasn't been translated. 

"Geralt. It says nothing about poison!" Jaskier panics, looking down at his friend only to find the mans eyes closed and breath labored. "Not cool, Geralt- not cool!" The man groans, angrily balling up the paper and tossing it across the clearing. When that doesnt wield and antidote he reaches down to tear apart the book in his frustration, and stops. 

"Oh my god." He laughs, practically squealing in happiness. "Geralt, my school days are finally useful!" He settles into a crossed leg position, right beside the Witcher's limp head. He sets the book in his lap, fingers finding their way to his friends hair where they gently untangle it. 

It takes a while, Latin not being particularly easy to read, before he finds it. "Oh this seems too easy, and I'm actually glad you're asleep for this." He humms as he closes the book, looking at his friends limp form. "Oh this would have been easier years ago." He sighs, standing and gripping the mans side. If he can simply pop the wound it will be fine, enough to relieve the pressure until they find a real antidote. If not- well that's when the chanting starts.

He grunts as he pulls at the Witchers body, sweat dripping down his brow as he tries to flip the man over. Geralt groans, looking pale and sweaty in a way Jaskier had never seen. "Probably best that i hurry- right?" He chuckles nervously, finally managing to turn the bigger man onto his front. "Okay it's about to get gross." He grimaces, noticing the swelled sting. It looks red and full of blood, and Jaskier swears it's looking at him.

"I can't believe I'm doing this- you better not get gross blood on me," He chuckles, fingers pinching at the pimple like area. He applies as much pressure as possible, half scared it will explode and hit him in the face or something. After a minute, it does nothing- instead looking more and more iritated. "This is such a bad idea." His hands pause when a deep groan scares him.

"Jask?" An incoherent voice rasps, followed by a cough. Geralt tries to sit up, and Jaskier hurries to press down on his shoulder blades.

"Sit still, I'm almost done," the bard lies, ignore the feeling that nickname brings him. "I thought I told you not to make this almost dying thing a series." The man grumbles, pressing harder at the sting. "Excuse my wandering hands good sir," Jaskier jokes to no one in particular, laughing nervously at his own joke while pressing hard enough his arms shake. Still, the injury- looking more like a blister- stares at him angrily.

"Oh fuck it." He grumbles, pressing in with his hands and letting his eyes slip closed. Rusty, it takes a few moments before he can ground himself enough to do anything. With a quick release of breath, he presses in and hears Geralts sharp gasp. Something wet splatters on his face and without looking he knows what it is. 

"EwwwWW!" His voice rises in pitch as he yanks back from his friend, wiping at his face with his sleeve with his eyes firmly closed. Eventually he gives up, knowing Geralts stupid blood is simply smeared across his face- and his shirt is RUINED.

"Jaskier?" Geralt sits up, confused and bleary eyed. "What are you- is that blood?" At his words the bard almost bursts into tears, muttering under his breath about never helping his brute of a companion again. Without an answer he stands, rumaging through his bag and then Geralts for a shirt. The Witcher remains on the ground, watching Jaskier hastily grab one of his black shirts and then stalk off to the trees. 

He glances from the direction the bard left and then to roach, confusion etched into his expression. "What the hell just happened?"

A/N...im thinking the same thing...what did I just write? Also please leave ideas for the next near death experience- and what do you think Jaskier is? ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave ideas for more death stuff im dumb...also jaskier is the BAMF we all need


End file.
